


My Jewel, My Love

by Amber_Angel



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Cuddles, Dragon Michael, Dragons, Dwarf Rich, Fluff, Human Jeremy, Kissing, M/M, Magical Realism, Pining, boyf riends — Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-17 11:15:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12364545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amber_Angel/pseuds/Amber_Angel
Summary: Jeremy is Michael's greatest treasure, even if he doesn't know it yet.





	1. Chapter 1

Michael is a hoarder, and he knows it. His room is filled, wall to wall, floor to ceiling, with junk. But the thing is, it's  _ pretty  _ junk. Broken pieces of jewelry that sparkle in the low light from overhead, thin, multicolored scarves that he found at Walmart for five bucks, pressed flowers and leaves from the trees outside. It's a natural instinct of his, collecting pretty things to add to his hoard. All dragons do it, even before they manifest. It's like how Jake loves to take walks at midnight and watch the clouds passing over the moon, Rich is fascinated with matches, and Christine spends as much of her time as possible on stage, singing her heart out. Stuff like that is in their blood.

 

His hoard is pretty impressive, if he does say so himself. Not only does he have a rainbow of broken gemstones and an entire wall of quarters, but he has one object of beauty from almost every state. A cardinal feather from Indiana, a Playbill from his family's visit to New York a few years ago, a sand dollar from Florida, etc, etc. The only states that he's missing are Washington, Michigan, and North and South Carolina. So, yes, it's impressive. But he doesn't have his grand jewel yet. 

 

Supposedly, he'll find his after manifesting, although his mom told him that some people don't find theirs until they're old and wobbly, and some just… don't. Ever. 

 

“That's where I got lucky,” she’ll always say, grinning in Ina’s direction. “I ran into mine-quite literally- when I was twenty.” 

 

At that point, Michael usually dismisses himself from the conversation. Not that the story isn't a sweet one, it's just that he's heard it a thousand times. He doesn't want to spend the rest of his evening revisiting the night his moms met. Again. 

 

A dragon's crown jewel doesn't have to be a person, but for most, it is. After all, it'd be pretty embarrassing to hold some weird, random object in higher regard than a spouse. For both the spouse and the dragon. But Michael's pretty sure that his is a person. As much as he loves his things, he loves his friends more. 

 

***

 

“Yo, Mikey, wait up!” Rich yelled across the parking lot. Michael could barely make him out in the crowd of people pushing past him as he stopped to wait for the dwarf. He could faintly hear Rich muttering, “S’cuse me, coming through, make way for the short bisexual.” 

 

When Rich reached him, he grinned and fake-punched  Michael's shoulder, which is weird, because even though he says it's friendly, it still hurts like a bitch. 

 

“Hey, Rich,” Michael greeted him, rubbing his shoulder. 

 

“Mike, my man! I heard that today’s your eighteenth birthday,” Rich replied, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “You feeling dragon-y yet?”

 

Technically, most dragons manifest on or around their seventeenth birthday, but Michael's mom says that he's a late bloomer. ‘You were late coming into this world, Micah, and I bet you'll be late leaving it,” she always tells him. ‘So don't be worried if you're a little later than most. That just means that there's too much potential to rush.’

 

“Nah, I don't think so. Course, I probably wouldn't even know if I was,” Michael answered, shrugging. “It's weird, Rich. I've got the hoarding instinct, but just looking at me, you'd never think that I'm a dragon, right? I don't have my wings, my teeth aren't sharp at all, and I don't even have my grand jewel. Or an idea of who it could be. What's wrong with me?”

 

“Nothing's wrong with you, Michael!” 

 

They both turned to see Jeremy jogging up to them. He was frowning.

 

“Hey, Jere, glad you could make it to the party,” Rich called, raising his fist to administer his greeting. Once he was done and Jeremy was rubbing his shoulder with a grimace, Michael grinned and threw an arm around his friend's shoulders before he could say anything else.

 

“C’mon, Player Two, we're going to be late for class. This isn't a therapy session.”

 

Rich snorted, and they started towards their first periods, separating at the door. Rich had math, and Jeremy and Michael shared an English class, which was boring as hell, but being together made it bearable. 

 

***

 

It started off as an itch. A tiny tingle in his back that was more an annoyance than anything. He couldn't reach it, and besides, he wouldn’t be able to scratch it through his hoodie. But ignoring it wasn't working. 

 

So there he was, shifting uncomfortably in his seat while the itch spread across his back, when he felt the pains start. It was like nothing he had ever felt before, like there was something trying to force its way out of his back, and he cried out and would have fallen out of his chair if Jeremy hadn't lunged to catch him. 

 

The teacher rushed over then, and Michael could hear him talking over Jeremy, trying to calm him down. 

 

“We need to get him to the nurse,” the teacher said.

 

“But what's going on?!” Jeremy almost shrieked, hugging Michael to him tightly. 

 

“Jeremy, it's okay. I think he's starting to manifest,” the teacher answered. 

 

Oh. Well, yeah, that would explain it, Michael supposed. Still, no one had told him that manifesting would  _ hurt.  _ Or that he would be this cold. The only warmth he felt was coming from where his body was laying against Jeremy, and the boy's arms were wrapped around his chest. He felt woozy, like he had been drugged, but when his teacher pulled him away from Jeremy to try and get him to stand, a low whine escaped his throat. He wanted to stay with Jeremy. Jeremy was nice, he was warm, he was... he was… he was Jeremy. There was no other way to put it. 

 

“Jere,” he mumbled. His teacher was leading him out of the classroom, and that was okay, but Jeremy wasn't with him, and that wasn't. 

 

“It's okay, Michael. Jeremy is getting your things for you. You're going to go home, alright?”

 

“Mkay.” His brain had decided to join the pain party by way of a splitting headache. He could barely think straight anymore.

 

***

 

Now he was sitting on his bed, wrapped in blankets, completely miserable. Even though his mom had draped almost all their blankets over him, given him soup, and turned the A.C. off, he was still cold and hurting. He wanted Jeremy, but Jeremy hadn't been allowed to leave with him, and he had to be placated with the promise of seeing him after school. He hadn't thought about how long school would keep them apart, though. By the time Jeremy finally walked through the door, shrugging his backpack off onto the floor, Michael was shaking, cold, slightly feverish, and on edge. He didn't even think before throwing himself at Jeremy, tucking his head into his friend's chest and whimpering quietly as warmth bled into his body. 

 

There was a surprised, “Oof! Michael?” from Jeremy, but Michael didn't answer. He was overwhelmed because the warmth, the blessed warmth was soothing his pain, his head stopped aching, and even the itch on his back faded away. Hesitant arms wrapped around him and he sighed with relief, sagging against Jeremy. 

 

“Michael?”

 

“You're warm,” Michael murmured, voice slightly muffled. “Feels nice.”

 

“Oh. O-okay, well, could we at least move to the bed so I can sit down?” 

 

Michael nodded reluctantly and released Jeremy, watching as he walked over and sat down on the bed. Then he flopped down next to Jeremy on the mattress, scooting closer until he was curled around his friend, head lying in Jeremy's lap, arms around his waist.

 

“Dude, you're clingy,” Jeremy told him, although he started running his hands through Michael's hair anyway. Michael just closed his eyes. 

 

“You're warm. I like it. I like warm. Like your warmth. I like you,” Michael rambled quietly.

 

Jeremy laughed, but it didn't sound like his normal ‘Michael made a hilarious joke’ laugh. It sounded… almost bitter. It made Michael want to tighten his grip.

 

“I hope you like me, otherwise I'd be out of a best friend.” Jeremy was joking, only joking, but Michael didn't like that joke. It rubbed him the wrong way. Of course he liked Jeremy! Jeremy was amazing! Hell, he didn't just  _ like  _ Jeremy, he- oh. Well, shit. He loved Jeremy. 

 

“Michael?”

 

He loved Jeremy. His best friend. Jeremy. Jeremy Heere.

 

“Michael?”

 

Yep. He loved Jeremy Heere. But somehow, that realization didn't freak him out. It simply made him even warmer. It made him want to tell Jeremy. But he couldn't come right out and say it, so how…? 

 

“Michael!” 

 

Oh there were hands on his face, warm hands, Jeremy's hands, if he opened his eyes he would see his face, he wanted to, he wanted to see his jewel… 

 

He opened his eyes. Jeremy was staring down at him, concerned. He was beautiful. 

 

“Did you fall asleep or something?”

 

“ _ Aking hiyas _ ,” Michael whispered. ( _ My jewel _ )

 

“What?”

 

“ _ Aking hiyas!”  _

 

“Uhh…”

 

“ _ Hiyas, maghintay.”  _ ( _ Jewel, wait _ )

 

He lifted himself off the bed, ignoring the way he shivered at the loss of heat. He was going to show Jeremy. He  _ had  _ to show him. There was a way, he knew. Looking at his hoard had given him the idea. Now if he could just find the right item…

 

“Michael, what are you doing, I thought you were cold?”

 

“ _ Maghintay! Pakiusap.”  _ ( _ Wait! Please _ )

 

There! Underneath the geodes that his uncle had given him last year. He pulled the picture out, ignoring how the rocks on top scattered across the dresser, some plinking to the floor. Turning, wobbling a bit, he presented the picture to Jeremy with a solemn frown. 

 

“ _ Ikaw ang aking hiyas. _ ” ( _ You are my jewel _ )

 

“Uh…” Jeremy took the picture, his confusion clear. “I don't get it.”

 

“ _ Hiyas! _ ” ( _ Jewel _ )

 

Michael gestured frustratedly at the picture. It was a picture of his moms, the night of their wedding, wearing matching dresses and gazing up at the moon. His mom's wings were poking through her dress, and one of them was draped across Ina’s shoulders. Their hands were clasped together, and they were smiling. For a long time, Michael had looked at this picture and thought to himself, ‘That's what I want someday. Someone to love and smile and watch the moon with.’ 

 

But Jeremy didn't understand. He could see it in his face. 

 

“ _ Aking hiyas,”  _ Michael repeated sadly, taking the photo back. “ _ Mahal ko. _ ” ( _ My jewel. My love _ )

 

He placed the picture back on the dresser and promptly collapsed, passing out before he even hit the floor. 

 

***

 

“No, no, Jeremy, he'll be fine. He probably just exhausted himself with all that moving around. Growing wings is a very painful, tiring process. Frankly, I'm surprised that he even had enough energy to speak.”

 

“Well, it was all in Tagalog.”

 

Michael's mom laughed, and Jeremy chuckled awkwardly along with her.

 

“Do you remember any of what he said?”

 

“He kept saying, um,  _ hiyas _ ?  _ A-aking hiyas, _ I think. And he was looking at me when he said it, so I assumed it was some kind of descriptor or something. What does it mean?”

 

Mrs. Mell shook her head, eyes blown wide. 

 

“I'm sorry, Jeremy, it's not for me to say. You'll have to ask Michael when he wakes up. Although, he might be preoccupied when he sees his new wings,” she replied. Jeremy sighed. 

 

“Oh, and he kind of shoved this at me,” Jeremy added, pointing at the picture that Michael had shown him. 

 

Michael's mom smiled fondly at the photo.

 

“That's a picture of my wedding night. His favorite, I think, of all the photos I used to show him. He used to go on and on about how someday he'd find his jewel like I did, and how they'd watch the moon together, too.” 

 

“His jewel?”

 

“It's a dragon thing, Jeremy. You've noticed, I'm sure, that Michael has quite an impressive collection up in his room. His hoard. Well, every dragon needs a crowning achievement for their hoard. Their jewel. Usually, it's a person. The person that they decide to settle down with and love for the rest of their days.” 

 

“Oh. That sounds, uh, romantic.”

 

Michael groaned, and his mom sighed and patted his cheek.

 

“I think he's coming to. Let's give him some space. Believe me, you don't want to be slapped by dragon's wings.”

 

They stepped back and watched Michael stretch and blink open his eyes, seeing them narrow in confusion as he took in his mom and Jeremy watching him. His wings fluttered behind him, and Jeremy could have laughed out loud when he saw the realization come into his friend's eyes.

 

Michael's head swiveled, and his eyes widened as he took in the sight of his wings, longer than his arms, scaly, and a dark shade of crimson. 

 

“Woah… I've got wings… I have wings!”

 

They flapped, and a few papers blew off of Michael's desk. His mom chuckled, but held out her hand for him to stop.

 

“You'll blow your whole room into disarray, Micah, and then where would we be? You'd never find anything again.”

 

Michael nodded numbly, but he obviously couldn't control himself. His wings gave another flutter, and the photo on his dresser floated off onto the ground, where Jeremy leaned to pick it up. He wasn't sure why, but he didn't want it getting lost. When he straightened back up, Michael's eyes were on him, and his friend's face was red. 

 

“Are you still cold, Michael?” Mrs. Mell asked, and Michael nodded, less enthusiastically this time, shoulders drooping, like he had only now noticed that he was shivering. His mom sighed and told him that she'd bring him more blankets. She left, and Jeremy walked over to sit beside him. 

 

“Nice wings,” he prodded, grinning. Michael smirked and leaned into him. His wings wrapped around the two of them, a strange cocoon. 

 

“Hey, uh, Michael? Do you remember any of what happened before you passed out?”

 

Michael stiffened, but he shrugged.

 

“Yeah, kind of. I wasn't really thinking straight, kinda going off of instinct.”

 

“Strange instinct.” Jeremy was going for teasing. It didn't work. “Um, I wanted to ask, what does  _ hiyas  _ mean? You kept calling me that.”

 

Michael plonked his head onto Jeremy's shoulder and groaned. 

 

“It's… it's stupid. It means ‘jewel.’ I-I don't know what I was thinking, I'm sorry.” 

 

“Oh.” His face was flaming. Michael had been calling him his jewel. As in, according to Mrs. Mell, the person he loved and wanted to settle down with. “W-well, what about  _ m-mahal ko _ ?”

 

“What?!” Michael shrieked and jerked back, staring at Jeremy. 

 

“Well! Y-you said! Before you passed out! You said  _ aking hiyas, mahal ko. _ ”

 

“Oh…. oh my god,” Michael muttered, hiding his face in his hands. “I called you- I said- god!” 

 

“What? What does it mean?”

 

“ _ Aking hiyas _ means ‘my jewel,’” Michael murmured, face red. “A-and  _ mahal ko  _ means- it means ‘my love.’”

 

“Oh.” 

 

“I'm sorry, I know it's weird, but we can just forget about it, pretend it didn't happen, or pretend I didn't mean it, it's fine,” Michael babbled, screwing his eyes shut. Then he felt hands cupping his face. 

 

“D-did you, though? Mean it?” 

 

Slowly, he opened his eyes. Jeremy was right there, in front of him. His cheeks looked flushed, and his eyes were staring intently into Michael's own. 

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Good.”

 

Jeremy pulled him forward, and their lips crashed together. Michael let out a surprised squeak.

 

“I'll be your jewel, if you really want me,” Jeremy whispered. 

 

“Jeremy…  _ Mahal kita _ ,  _ aking hiyas. _ I love you."


	2. Jeremy's Notebook

Jeremy was slowly learning more and more about dragons. Particularly Michael. He had been dating his friend for about a month now, and writing down all he had learned in a notebook. The list so far was pretty impressive.

 

  * Dragons are ALWAYS cold



 

It was true. Before he manifested, cold had never really been a big problem for Michael, but as soon as he hit eighteen, it was like a switch had been flipped. He was constantly shivering, even wearing heavy clothing. His red hoodie was now a constant. Michael never went anywhere without it.

 

Of course, Michael always said that he preferred to keep warm by keeping close to Jeremy.

 

“You're like a big heater,” he told him once, leaning into his boyfriend as they played Apocalypse of the Damned. “It makes the dragon in me happy.”

 

“Wow, thanks. I've always wanted to be exploited for my body heat.”

 

“Shut up, you dork, you know I love you.”

 

  * Dragons are protective as hell



 

Well, Jeremy couldn't say _all_ dragons, for sure, but Michael Mell? Extremely.

 

It wasn't overly noticeable. It wasn't like Michael was one of those overbearing, controlling boyfriends who never let him talk to another guy. He just had less patience when Jeremy was in an uncomfortable situation.

 

For example, just last week, Jeremy and Rich were chatting at their lockers, and cutting it kinda close for class, when Jeremy suddenly landed on the floor, pain in his back, no air in his lungs. He heard Rich yelling, heard shuffling, and then there were hands on his shoulders, yanking him up, slamming him against the lockers. He groaned.

 

“Hey!” rang out through the hall. Jeremy didn't even have to look to know that it was Michael. His voice was rougher, angrier, but it was Michael's all the same. Something flew past his face, and the guy holding him yelped and stumbled away, clutching his nose. Jeremy fell forward and felt a strong arm wrap around his waist.

 

“Jere, are you okay?” Hands cupped his face, tilted his head. There was a soft thumb tracing a path over his cheekbone, and he managed a small smile.

 

“I'm okay, Mikey. Where's Rich?"

 

Michael's expression softened.

 

“He's okay. For a little guy, he can throw some pretty good right hooks.”

 

“Damn right!” Rich piped up. “I just barely kept him off me, though.”

 

They headed off to the nurse after that, despite Jeremy's continued insistence that ‘he was _fine_ , Michael, you're overreacting.’

 

“Jeremy, just humor your boyfriend.”

 

  * Michael loves pet names



 

He actually stumbled onto that little bit of information by accident. They were in Michael's basement, laying out the snacks for a gaming session, and Jeremy just casually said, “Hey, can you toss me a bag of Lays, sweetheart?”

 

When no chips were forthcoming, Jeremy looked up to see Michael staring at him, cheeks red.

 

“Uh, you alright Mikey?”

 

“Uh… huh?”

 

“You don't sound too sure of that, babe.”

 

Michael squeaked- actually squeaked- and tried to hide the blush spreading furiously across his face.

 

“Oh my god,” Jeremy laughed. Michael raised his head to glare at him. “That's adorable.”

 

“Shut up. I'm a dragon, Jeremy, I could bite you or something. Wait, shit, no-”

 

Jeremy snorted and moved over to Michael's beanbag.

 

“It's okay, darling,” he cooed, “you can bite me if it'll make you feel better. But if you're gonna give me a hickey, make sure it won't be visible tomorrow.”

 

“F-fuck you,” Michael stammered, but he was grinning.

 

“Well, that's moving a little fast, but I'm sure we can get to that too,” Jeremy teased, and they both dissolved into laugher. Michael laid his head on Jeremy's shoulder as their chuckles died down, and Jeremy put his arms around his boyfriend.

 

“You do know I love you, right?” he asked, serious now. They joked, but he knew that validation was nice every once in a while. A little reassurance went a long way.

 

“Yeah,” Michael murmured, voice muffled. “I love you, too.”

 

“No, I mean it. Baby, you make me happy,” Jeremy whispered, smiling as Michael sighed and nuzzled into his neck. “You're so beautiful, and I'm so lucky to have you.”

 

  * Michael loves to cuddle



 

It's adorable, really. Anytime he walks into the Mell household, he immediately found his arms full of a Michael-shaped blob consisting of fluttering wings and whining about how long he's been away.

 

(“Michael, it's been, like, an hour.”

 

“Shut up and hug me, Jere.”)

 

Down in the basement, Michael will sit in his lap as they play video games, or lay his head on Jeremy's lap and let him play with his dark hair as they talk. (Jeremy has discovered that Michael will purr if he scratches his head).

 

Michael's mom has gotten used to waking them up in the morning from their entangled position, Michael's head tucked neatly into Jeremy's chest, their arms slung over each other, legs intertwined.

 

Even in school, they hated being separated. Whenever possible, Michael would lean against Jeremy, arm wrapped around his boyfriend's waist. They'd hold hands in class if they sat close enough, and the teachers would usually let it pass, as long as they pulled apart for people walking through their aisle.

 

Lunch was the best part of the day. They were free to be as close as they wanted, which usually meant that Jeremy nuzzled into Michael's hoodie as they held hands underneath the table and Jenna snapped pictures.

 

  * Michael is a fucking tease



 

At that point, Jeremy honestly started considering learning Tagalog. Because Michael kept calling him names in Filipino, and he couldn't tell if they were pet names or insults.

 

It started with Michael calling him “ _hiyas”_ a few times throughout the week, “ _mahal ko_ ” if he was feeling really affectionate. And that was fine. Jeremy knew what that meant, and it was nice, even if the sentiments made him blush. But then it started to escalate.

 

“Jeremy, you _asno_!” Michael yelled as Jeremy blue-shelled him in Mario Kart, cackling as he shot past.

 

“Did you just call me an ass in Tagalog?”

 

***

 

It happened again at lunch, after Jeremy mumbled into Michael's shoulder that he was falling asleep on his feet.

 

“Well, _hiyas_ , maybe you wouldn't be so tired if you didn't stay up so late,” Michael told him affectionately, kissing his forehead. “ _Malungkot._ ” (Moron)

 

“Was that last one an insult?”

 

“Yes, Jere.”

 

“Oh.”

 

***

 

“Jeremy, _mahal kita_ but if you miss this shot, I'll disown you.”

 

“Shit.”

 

“ _Sumpain ito_! That was our last life!” (Damn it!)

 

  * Michael is… amazing



 

It should be clear to anybody. Jeremy's not sure how he seems to be the only person to really get it. It's obvious, really, in every way. Like how Michael will somehow instinctively know when Jeremy's having a bad day, and he'll give him his hoodie to wear, because ‘I have another one in my locker, and you look like you need it.’

 

It's in the fact that Michael is constantly giving him things, tokens, with this bright smile, breathing out a soft whisper of, “ _Para sa iyo, aking hiyas_ ,” as he presses the object into Jeremy's palm. (For you, my jewel)

 

It's evident in Michael himself, in his gorgeous smile and deep eyes, his adorable personality and love for Bob Marley and good music. In the way that he kisses Jeremy a loving ‘hello’ every day, and a lingering ‘goodbye’ every night.

 

It's just _Michael,_ and Jeremy loves him with all his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who commented, especially Space_Ace. You guys were what motivated me to write this second chapter. I hope it lived up to expectations.
> 
> Update: I feel like I should clarify that I do not speak Tagalog, and I'm very sorry for any mistakes. If you see any, point them out, I'll be glad to fix them (even if it might take me a while to get around to it.)


End file.
